


The Three Foolish Wishes

by DaisyNinjaGirl



Series: The Tenner [7]
Category: Christian Tradition Lore & Folklore, Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, The point of poker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24653185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyNinjaGirl/pseuds/DaisyNinjaGirl
Summary: Day Four - The Joker"...in the morning when the guests took their leave, one of the followers, a bearded man who had given his name as Peter told old Ulivo that he was a fool! Christ himself had visited him, and he might have asked for any wish on heaven or earth to be granted. Ulivo blushed when he realised who his exalted guest had been, and also when he thought back to a particularly well received tale about a bishop, two actresses and a donkey, but he ran to the leader and kissed the hem of his robe and asked for a boon."
Relationships: Ulivo & Jesus Christ
Series: The Tenner [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680610
Kudos: 1
Collections: The Tenner





	The Three Foolish Wishes

_In the evening in the quiet hours after supper, Edward Farthing sat at a card table dealing out hands of Patience. When he realised he was observed, he flicked out a card and then another: the Ace of Spades, the King of Hearts, and the lowly Two of Clubs. He gave a sudden smile of great sweetness._

_“Lady Yekaterina,” he said. “You spoke yesterday of a fool who met Death. I have a story to tell not of a fool, but a humble man who met Death and also our Lord Jesus, and through his poverty saved many souls.”_

**The Three Foolish Wishes**

Once on the road between Ostia and Rome - a busy road for in those days all souls sought to travel to the seven hills - there lived a peasant named Ulivo. He was humble in his ways and humble in his faith: he welcomed all who passed him by in the name of Lord Jesus and shared what crumbs he had, but he did not decline such gifts of wine or fine cheese that might come his way either.

One day, late in the day when all good souls are considering their supper, he heard a sharp knock on the door. He sighed a little, for as much as he loved guests, his larder carried little, but he opened the door all the same. He gulped at the large numbers of the group but, remembering that the twelve apostles and Jesus together numbered thirteen, he invited the strangers into his home. He bustled about finding benches and chairs for his numerous guests while he thought in his head how he might make the provisions of his house stretch. A stew, he thought, with many vegetables and little meat, and some fat white dumplings, that might pass but lo! when he opened his cupboard it was full with fat white loaves of bread, a large wheel of yellow cheese, a tub of butter, a large smoked salmon, pink in the dim light.

“Friends!” he cried, “let us dine together!”

Curiously, he explored his cellar, expecting to find the flask he had seen last of sour wine that even he thought was almost vinegar, but lo! there were dusty wine bottles of an excellent vintage and these, too, he brought up to his guests. He asked of a mercy if the leader of that large band would say the grace in the Lord’s name before they dined, and the guest, a man of quiet demeanor who had chosen not to doff his hood, nodded from beneath the heavy cloth, smiled kindly and spoke of the bread and blood of Christ.

It was a fine meal they ate that night, for it was soon to be Lent, when those who follow Christ fast in his name, and the wise fattened themselves up first. And it was a _jolly_ meal, with laughter and song, and the occasional bawdy tale. The leader of the guests laughed the hardest at these.

But then in the morning when the guests took their leave, one of the followers, a bearded man who had given his name as Peter told old Ulivo that he was a fool! Christ himself had visited him, and he might have asked for any wish on heaven or earth to be granted. Ulivo blushed when he realised who his exalted guest had been, and also when he thought back to a particularly well received tale about a bishop, two actresses and a donkey, but he ran to the leader and kissed the hem of his robe and asked for a boon. The man nodded and Ulivo said: “if it please you, I wish that anyone who sits in my chair must stay there until I bid them rise.” Jesus said “as you wish” and gathered his apostles together.

“Fool!” Peter said. “You could have asked for much more than that! Riches! Fame! Your immortal soul to be saved!”

“Oh,” said Ulivo, blushing again as he recalled another tale from the night before about a soldier, a flowerpot, and three village maidens. He ran after his Lord again and begged another favour, but this time he asked that anyone who climbed his cherry tree would remain there until he bid them down. The Lord nodded, and congratulated Ulivo on the fine tree in his garden, and said “as you wish.”

Peter made a disgusted noise and said “is that all? Old man, you might have asked to join with us apostles and follow our Lord for the rest of your days!”

Ulivo looked down at the dirt beneath his grubby feet. “Oh,” he said, “I am too humble a soul for such things.” But he asked one more favour of the Lord, who smiled and rested his hand on poor Ulivo’s head and granted that final wish, that Ulivo would never lose a game of cards. “Until we meet again,” Jesus said, and this time departed down the long road.

Well and well. What a story to tell. Ulivo shared it often with the guests who rested in his house, and was laughed at for it - but kindly, because Ulivo was a modest and generous soul. The years passed until one day the knock on the door that Ulivo opened gladly was Death himself. Ulivo sighed. “Oh well, I’ve had a good run,” he said. “Have I ever told you the story of how I met Jesus?” Death shook his head. “Oh! Then you must hear it. Sit you down in my best chair while I tell it to you.”

Ulivo had gotten only as far as his first wish when Death suddenly started and tried to rise from the chair. “Oh dear, oh dear,” said Ulivo, “but I’ve only really just started getting used to being alive. I don’t think I’m quite ready to go with you yet. Why I even turned down the chance to follow in the train of Jesus!”

Death fumed and swore and snarled, but yet he could not rise, and his job was too important to be left undone. At last, he promised Ulivo 300 more years of life in exchange for the right to walk away. Ulivo, modest to the end, thanked Death profoundly and gave the spectre a gift of his finest cherries to eat on his way home.

300 years passed quickly, for Ulivo was a cheerful soul, and there were many passers by to regale him with stories of their travels. At last, the knock on the door was from Death, his pale horse standing at the gate. “ **I SHAN’T COME IN,** ” Death said, “ **I KNOW YOUR TRICKS.** ”

Ulivo hung his head in embarrassment. “Yes, I know, it was an unfriendly way to treat a guest, and you have kept your end of the bargain. But I won’t keep you long. Perhaps you could stroll in my garden while I collect my things and set the house in order?”

So Death walked in the fine garden in the moist dew of evening and he gazed at the finest cherry tree he had ever seen. He _remembered_ those cherries. He plucked those he could reach from the lower branches and they were as delicious as he recalled.

_Edward paused a moment. “May I say how truly excellent was the Cherry Jubilee your chef served tonight, Lady Yekaterina?” He tapped the Ace of Spades speculatively._

But oh! those cherries. Soon Death had eaten all he might reach easily, and so he put one bony foot on a root, and another on a low branch, and so he ascended into those tempting luscious branches and the bounty that surrounded him. Ulivo left his house, carefully locking the door behind him, and looked up at Death in a friendly way. “But I never finished my story! I should tell you of the second wish I begged of Jesus!”

At that, Death cursed and swore, because he knew he had been tricked again. He agreed once more to grant little Ulivo another three hundred years, and as before, he took away a good big punnet of those excellent excellent cherries.

At the end of those three centuries, even little Ulivo was tired of life. When he saw Death at his door, he nodded simply, packed a few small possessions in his satchel, and let Death lead him to the long winding road that leads to Heaven. Death assured him that - despite the peasant’s taste for bawdy stories and practical jokes - he had lived a life more virtuous than most and was assured of a place in Heaven, all he had to do was place one foot in front of the other until he reached those beautiful gates.

_Edward flipped over the Joker and tapped the dancing man with his thumbnail._

Well. Ulivo meant well, of course he _meant_ well, but along the way there were other gates wide and high and strong guarded by a little red man with horns atop his forehead and the most _peculiar_ feet. It was a long and narrow way to Heaven, and the way forward was through a tangle of blackberry thickets, and Ulivo thought a little amusement along the way wouldn’t be _too_ bad a thing before he tackled the next stretch of road. He had met Jesus after all, and knew the Son of God to be a man (or was it woman?) with a fine sense of humour.

So he asked the Devil who danced at the Gates of Hell if he might enjoy a friendly game of cards. They needed stakes of course - poker is always more interesting if you risk more than you can stand to lose - so they agreed that the ante would be Ulivo’s soul for the souls of twelve sinners and they sat down to play. Of course the Devil cheated - he always does - but somehow, this time his tricks and sleight of hand did him no good. He lost! This could not be borne, so they played another hand for redoubled stakes and another and another! Always, Ulivo, humble man that he was, apologised for his beginner’s luck and insisted that he was sure the Devil’s luck was soon about to turn. Eventually the Devil realised that Hell now contained only a few miserable souls whom he could not bear the thought of no longer tormenting and he rose and threw over the table, he stormed off in a huff and slammed the Gates of Hell behind him! Ulivo shrugged and told the waiting souls: “Well, I think you had all better come along with me.”

They climbed the long weary road together, holding hands, helping each other over the rocky places and the thorns and the narrow gates. Finally they reached the shimmering entrance to Heaven where Peter stood flanked by two angels. “You again!” St Peter said for, having in a moment that mattered much denied his lord, he always felt the need to prove his piety. “ _You_ may enter, little Ulivo, but these others have sinned. They have not yet burned off the taint in their souls.”

Ulivo hemmed and hawed and apologised, and asked if they might play a friendly game of cards to settle the difference, but St Peter would have none of it. But _then_ , then a voice came belling out behind those gates and laughed heartily. “My good friend Ulivo!” said the voice of Our Lord. “When I came to your door with so many uninvited guests, you neither turned us away nor stinted us food and drink. I can do no less in my hospitality than a poor man - let all of you enter.”

And thus through those three foolish wishes, a multitude of sinners were saved. And may the Devil stamp his foot in regret until the end of days!

**Author's Note:**

> I have this story from a collection called _Fairy Tales of the World_ which my grandmother gave to me, and then my sister regave to me after the first volume was lost. (Thanks, Thimblerig!) I haven't been able to find a source apart from that, but it claims to be a traditional Italian story.


End file.
